


With Me You've Got Nothing To Fear

by senioritastyles



Series: Everybody Loves Luke [4]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fluff, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 09:05:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3804670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/senioritastyles/pseuds/senioritastyles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke just wants Michael, and luckily, Michael feels the same way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Me You've Got Nothing To Fear

**Author's Note:**

> (title is from Runaways by All Time Low)

The sun-washed room heats up quickly while Luke fights to stay asleep. Damn the Australian sun, for being way too hot way too early. Okay, so it’s nearly 11, but Luke deserves his beauty sleep; he’s been working hard with the boys on this second album and he’s exhausted and glad to be home. His bed is soft and clean, sheets smelling like fresh flowers and springtime. His clothes don’t smell like a half-baked attempt at using the washing machines in hotels when he doesn’t really know how, and he’s properly clean because he got the chance to shower thoroughly rather than having one of the boys shouting at him for taking too long. He’s got a long body and it takes time to clean it—although he usually leaves out the part about not being able to properly wash all of his legs because he’s not that flexible, and then the shampoo gets in his eyes and they sting really bad and he does the panic dance before remembering that he’s under water already and all he has to do is look up and rub them off. Yeah, he leaves that out.

Nonetheless, Luke is happy, except he wishes there were clouds in the sky to shield his eyes from the sun; big, thick, puffy ones, the ones he used to (still does) find shapes in on long car rides. He tries squeezing his eyes shut tighter, even though that nearly gives him a headache and he knew it wouldn’t work anyway. He sighs and decides to lie on his stomach and stare out the window, watch the birds skitter by and the leaves on the trees in the backyard blow this way and that, still hanging on strong because spring just started. Everything is green and golden in the early afternoon light. Luke’s about to doze off again finally when his phone rings from the dresser next to his bed. He flings a long arm out and grabs, answering it on speaker phone because he’s too lazy to hold it up to his ear.

“Hello?” 

“Luke!” It’s Michael, yelling, as usual.

“Yes Mikey?” Luke sighs again, not surprised at all that Michael is the source of his disturbed quiet.

“Come over. I’m bored and I miss you.” Michael says and Luke’s brows furrow, because Michael’s only actually admitted that like, twice before. 

It doesn’t take much consideration before Luke says, “Okay. Be there in twenty.”

Michael hums his approval and the line goes dead. Luke shakes his head and heaves himself up, rubbing his tired face and standing up, stretching so hard that his bones not only pop, but his muscles seize a little. He shakes it off and gets himself dressed, jeans and a t-shirt and a hat like every other day. His Vans slip on and he thumps down the stairs, grabbing a banana and his keys from the kitchen and heading out the door. 

\--

Michael’s idea of “missing Luke” means trapping them both in the man-cave while the older boy plays video games. Luke can’t say he minds all that much, considering he’s still sort of tired, and besides it isn’t like this is anything new. Michael and his video games are like mac&cheese—okay separate, but better together. Luke doesn’t want to ruin his fun anyway, and he sucks at most video games, so he sits himself on the ottoman by the window, the one Michael had boasted about purchasing when he’d first decorated the room. It’s comfy and just big enough for Luke to sit Indian style and look out the window. 

He likes Michael’s window view better than his own at home, because Michael’s faces a side street that’s edged by tall trees and dandelions and maybe daisies, but Luke isn’t really sure; he’s no flower expert, but he does like to look at them. The midday sun is perfectly positioned for this spot, slanting in through the glass and warming Luke’s face and chest in the cold of Michael’s AC. Luke leans his head against the frame just as a pillow comes sailing into the wall on the opposite side of the window. Luke looks over at the culprit, who is no longer focesued on the TV screen.

“Stop.” Is what Michael offers as explanation.

Luke furrows his brows and cocks his head, confused. “Stop what?”

Michael looks at him and says, “I don’t know. Whatever you were doing, just stop.” The tone is an amused sort of commanding.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Well...knock it off.”

Luke has to laugh at that. “You’re an idiot.” He offers, not meaning it at all.

“And you’re lame.” Michael fires back, smiling.

Luke shrugs and nods his head. “Fair enough.”

Quiet descends, a comfortable hush chasing their playful words like a mother after rowdy children. Luke looks back out the window, lets the light warm his chilled skin and he can feel Michael watching him from the corner of his viridian eyes. He’s not sure why, but Michael’s been doing it since Luke got here—not that he minds, it’s just strange, is all. Luke ignores it and focuses back on the outside world. He finds that he doesn’t much want to stay inside, even if it is with one of his favorite people.

So he makes a suggestion. “We should go to the beach.”

Luke hears the controller buttons, loud under Michael’s rapid fingers as the boy says, “You know the sun hates me.”

Luke doesn’t bother looking away from his perfect view of where he wants to be. “No, you hate the sun. The sun doesn’t hate anyone. It can’t because it’s not a living thing.” It’s a matter-of-fact statement.

“Shut up. No nerding in the man-cave.” Michael announces, also matter-of-factly, smile soaking the words, watering them down.

Luke finally looks over, laughing, Michael unmoved from his place on the cushy couch. “You’re holed up inside on a gorgeous sunny day playing Call of Duty by yourself. This room is full of nerd even without me here.” 

Michael is whiny and pouty when he says, “Shut uuuuppp.” 

It’s cute and Luke’s nose crinkles when he giggles at it, standing up. “Get up, we’re going to the beach.” He shuts the game console off on his way by, pushing the button on the TV for good measure as well, so Michael has no choice but to get up either way.

“But I hate the beach.” It’s huffy and there’s a lower lip being shoved even further out in Luke’s direction.

Luke makes a last-ditch effort, knowing it will work. “Yeah but you love me, so...beach.”

Michael’s face takes on a defeated look and Luke smiles triumphantly, walking over and tugging Michael up by his arm and marching him upstairs to his room. Michael flops onto his bed and Luke rummages through Michael’s dresser, tossing a shirt, swim trunks, sunglasses, and sunscreen—because the good lord knows Michael’s skin is delicate and pale as porcelain—Michael’s way. 

Luke grabs Michael’s spare swimsuit for himself and heads toward the bathroom down the hall, yelling what he hopes is a demanding, “Get changed!”

Luke shuts the door tightly behind himself, stripping off his jeans and boxers and slipping on the slightly short trunks. He ties them off, because while Luke’s shoulders and chest are bigger, Michael’s waist isn’t quite as tiny as Luke’s, so the trunks slip just a little too low for Luke’s liking. He’s happy to find, upon exiting the bathroom, that Michael listened to him and changed, and is now grabbing towels from the linen closet next to Michael’s parents’ room. Luke smiles cheerfully, hoping it shows how happy he is that he’s going to spend time with Michael doing something other than shooting fake army men to achieve some mission Luke doesn’t understand. Michael’s smile is a little less sunny, but it’s smothered in adoration, and Luke will take that any day.

\--

Wednesdays are good for beach time, because hardly anyone is ever there. Especially since it’s past spring break and summer vacation is still a few months away, so kids are still in school and adults are still working all day. So when they get there, Luke parks and shuts the car off, happy to see that on this area of the beach, there is literally only a man and woman, walking along with a metal detector beeping an inch above the sand. 

As soon as they get out, Luke can see it on Michael’s face that he wants to get back in and drive home. But that’s not going to happen.

Not even when Michael complains, “It’s so hot.”

Luke watches the drama queen lean against the car as he opens the back door and gets their towels and the sunscreen. Luke laughs as he shuts the door and hits the lock button, letting Michael know that they’re not going anywhere anytime soon. He knows Michael much too well, knows he’s just complaining for effect rather than actually having a problem, so Luke decides to pick a dry spot as close to the water as he can get so Michael won’t have an excuse not to swim since it isn’t a far walk. Luke looks over as they settle down on their towels, sees Michael’s face contort into something like annoyance, though if Michael were really annoyed with Luke he would’ve let Luke know that already. 

“You’re grumpy today.” Luke says, wishing Michael would quit thinking so much and just smile.

“I know.” Michael says, like he was thinking it himself.

Luke leaves it at that, nodding and slipping his shirt off carefully, thankful for the lack of people (and fans) to ogle at him and his weird body. He folds it up and tucks his socks inside his shoes and places the bundle upside down over his shirt so it doesn’t get too sandy. He lifts his snapback off and puts that next to the pile, ruffling his hair so it doesn’t look quite so flat and floppy. Luke can practically feel Michael thinking next to him, can hear the steam coming out of his ears and he wonders what’s got the boy in such a mood but he doesn’t ask.

Even if he wanted to, Michael seems to shake himself out of it and shimmy right back into his usual self, asking, impossibly, “Why is it so hot?”

Luke feels like he’s dealing with a petulant child at this point, asking him questions that have obvious answers—or no discernable answer—and whining about things Luke can’t control. “Because that’s what the sun does, Mikey. It creates heat. You’d know that if you went outside more than twice a year. Shirt off.” He commands, sitting up on his knees and grabbing the sunscreen.

Michael complies easily enough, leaving his shirt on the sand between them. Luke sighs and puts the bottle he was holding down, picking up Michael’s shirt and folding it and putting it on the corner of Michael’s towel. When he looks back, Michael’s got this look on his face that Luke can only describe as fondness, and Luke has to distract himself before he comments on it and makes Michael actually annoyed with him. So he picks the sunscreen back up, squeezing a fair amount onto his hands and scooting behind Michael, massaging it into Michael’s back. Luke knows better than to let Michael do this himself, remembers the time they did let him do it and he missed so many spots all over the place that he looked like he was wearing a polka dot onesie 24/7 for two weeks. 

Luke grins at the memory, making sure to go over Michael’s skin a few times just to make sure he covered it all. He smooths his hands up over Michael’s shoulders next, getting them coated as well, before dumping a bit more sunscreen into his hands and starting on Michael’s arms, one at a time. He wants to make sure Michael is well protected, because this was Luke’s idea and he’ll feel so incredibly horrible if Michael gets burned at all. Michael would probably only half-heartedly blame Luke for it, but skin care is important, especially for someone with skin like Michael’s—soft and pale and sensitive. And Michael is important to Luke, so he’s going to keep his boy safe.

Once Luke’s got everything on the back and arms covered, he shuffles back around to Michael’s front, going for Michael’s legs first. Despite the little hairs fuzzing them, Michael’s legs are smooth and silken and Luke likes touching them so he takes his time on purpose, but he makes it look like he’s just being thorough. Once they’re slick with lotion, Luke squints up at Michael’s face, kind of wishing he’d started there because there’s already a light sun-flushed look to the apples of Michael’s cheeks. Luke puts more sunscreen on his hands, just a tiny glob, and he uses his other hand to scoop tiny bits up and dab it on, rubbing it with his thumb in little circles. Luke’s sure to get Michael’s nose and cheeks extremely well, because he doesn’t want them to burn or get any pinker than they have. Luke lathers Michael’s neck and goes back over the tops of Michael’s shoulders since they look a tad pink too, and he gets to Michael’s torso, massaging every inch all the way down to his trunks.

Luke can see that Michael’s still thinking, still lost in his own head, distracted today, more than usual. So he’s quick to get some sunscreen in his hands again, standing up. “We’re swimming, c’mon.”

He rubs the lotion into his shoulders and face as Michael protests. “But you literally just put sunscreen on me.”

Luke shakes his head and extends his hand down to Michael. “It’s waterproof Mikey, c’mon.”

Michael seems to think for another second or so before he takes Luke’s hand and Luke leads them the few feet to the water, wading out until they’re up to their knees. The water is chilled, and it feels good on Luke’s skin, cooling him down from the sun’s relentless shining. The contrast in temperature is nice, but when Luke looks at Michael he can tell the sentiment isn’t shared. Michael’s always cold for whatever reason, and Luke is the opposite, which is why they end up rooming together on tour more often than not—so Michael can leech Luke’s body heat under the guise of cuddling, because everyone knows Luke is a sucker for cuddles. The poor boy is shivering next to Luke, so the younger boy does what he always does when Michael needs warming up: he opens his arms and invites Michael into them.

Michael slowly moves into the embrace, and Luke folds his arms tightly around him, feeling his spikey bleached hair tickle his chin. Michael stops shivering immediately, and Luke looks into his eyes to find him already looking back. Michael is gorgeous, he notes, not for the first time. Some people don’t seem to think so, but Luke knows they’re wrong. Michael is perfect really, with his sea glass eyes and his magic hair that stays soft and fluffy and vibrant despite all odds, and his lean body that’s supple with pale skin and dotted with tattoos here and there. Luke’s probably in love, but he already kind of knew that. Luke guides them further out, nearly in to their shoulders and he’s still got a firm hold on Michael, trying to keep him warm as his hands rest against the bottom of Michael’s spine in reassurance.

“S’cold.” Michael mumbles against Luke’s neck, and Luke hums his affirmation, shrugging, which jolts Michael a little bit since he was resting so close.

Michael looks mildly upset when Luke lets go of him, and Luke kind of didn’t want to, but he wants to actually swim so he dives under the shallow water and wraps a hand around Michael’s ankle, like a tiny hand hug, and swims away, feeling the odd tug and push of the waves over top of him. He emerges and wipes his eyes, biting his lip and smiling at Michael, hoping the older boy gets the hint and joins him. Message received, apparently, because Michael disappears under the water and it isn’t long before his head in pushing into Luke’s stomach playfully. Michael pops up, clearly closer than he’d intended to, because he jumps back when his lips ghost against Luke’s. Luke wishes he hadn’t jerked away, because he wouldn’t mind a kiss, but he smiles all the same. Michael watches Luke for a few seconds and then decides to shake his head around like a wet dog, sending little droplets of water all over Luke’s face. 

Luke hops back a foot or so, bring his hands up to shield his face, giggling. “Mikeeeeyyy.” He complains, even though he’s already soaked from head to toe.

Michael stops and smiles at him, again with the fondness, and Luke keeps grinning back as he doggy-paddles in a circle around the older boy, occasionally dropping his head under because he likes what the salt water does to his hair when it dries. Michael watches him the whole time.

\--

Michael heads for the shower as soon as they get back to his house, just like Luke knew he would; Michael’s weird about being clean so it’s no surprise. Luke follows him upstairs and grabs sweats and sweaters for both of them out of Michael’s drawers. He’s betting Michael will take about 15 minutes in the bathroom in total, so he tosses their clothes in the dryer and sets the timer to make them warm for when Michael gets out. When the machine beeps its finish, Luke gathers the clothes and heads back upstairs with them bundled tightly into each other so they stay warm and he meets Michael in the hallway just outside his bedroom, handing over a toasty shirt and pants set. He takes the other to the bathroom and changes himself, drying himself extra well with a towel and dressing.

He orders pizza online from his phone, and shuffles downstairs to wait in the livingroom. It takes 15 minutes for the delivery guy to show up; Luke tips him in cash and sends him off, shutting and locking the door behind him. He heads over to the man-cave with the box and he sets it on the coffee table, and Michael comes in a moment later, movie in hand. Luke sits down and watches him turn the TV on and put the movie in. The pizza is quick to disappear once the screen starts flashing the scenes. Michael shifts, leaning his head on Luke’s shoulder and Luke easily curves his body around Michael’s, putting his arm over the older boy’s shoulders. Luke’s eyes stay on the screen, but Michael is apparently keen on looking at Luke, because his head tilts and his nose is tickling the stubble on Luke’s jaw and maybe he’s sniffing Luke’s skin or something. 

Either way, Luke can feel him looking but he’s too sleepy to do much either than comment, “You’re staring.”

Instead of offering explanation, Michael says, “I thought about marrying you today.”

It makes Luke smile wide. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, but then I remembered how lame you are.” Michael’s tone is joking, light-hearted, and Luke knows he doesn’t actually mean it.

But still he muses, “You’re mean.” Trying not to laugh, Luke barely keeps his smile at bay.

“I know, but you still love me.”

It’s a hopeful statement, phrased more like a backhanded question, like Michael wants an answer but a specific one. Of course Luke admits, “I do.” Because he does. He really does.

Michael’s cheeks pink as Luke squeezes his shoulder, and the older boy looks away from Luke finally. “I love you too, you know.”

“I know.” 

Michael looks up at that, and Luke holds his gaze because he needs Michael to understand how he feels. It’s a deep moment, and their faces are so close together that the air crackles with tension. 

“Stop.” Michael insists, even though he doesn’t look like he wants that at all.

Luke fires back, “You stop.” Because he isn’t the one who started this whole confession thing that led them here.

“I told you first.”

“I told you second.”

“Luke.”

“Michael.”

Silence leaks into the room like oxygen, and Luke breathes it in, feels it clogging his ears. It’s clear that neither of them is going to move away; Luke certainly isn’t and he can see it in Michael’s eyes that this is like a test for himself, to see if he can win out against Luke. What the game is, Luke isn’t sure—he didn’t know he was playing, but he knows that as soon as Michael starts moving in slowly, it’s obvious what the prize is. He’s been thinking about kissing Michael nearly all day, so he isn’t scared at all, but Michael’s determination wavers when he’s a few centimeters away.

“Just do it.” Luke prompts him, knowing they both want to.

Still, Michael plays dumb. “Do what?”

Luke wants to roll his eyes. “Mikey.” He warns.

And a second later their lips whisper against each other’s, not pushing, just resting there. Luke’s eyes slip shut and he can’t see what Michael’s doing, but he hears a deep breath, feels the couch shift, like the older boy is gearing up. Michael’s mouth then comes in full force, sealing hard over Luke’s own, drawing a surprised groan of approval from the younger boy. The sounds echoes deep in his throat, like a growl, and Michael responds by sending his tongue out as a peace offering for the hungry animal taking refuge under Luke’s skin. Michael licks Luke’s lips like he’s tasting heaven, trying to unleash something that can only be caged inside Luke’s mouth. Luke’s lips open slowly, parting just a fraction of their own accord each time Michael’s tongue makes a swipe. It feels delectable, the way Luke’s body responds so eagerly to Michael’s efforts, the way Luke’s lip ring digs into the plush outline of Michael’s bottom lip, the way their tongues explore each other’s mouths—no fight for dominance, no struggle to prove a point; just tasting and exploring and learning.

Michael’s straddling one of Luke’s thighs now, hands cupping Luke’s neck. Luke’s own hands wander down Michael’s ribs, finding purchase on the older boy’s hips. They kiss like they have all the time in the world, like there’s no end to this moment of connection. It’s addicting and Luke finds himself lost in it, like Alice from that Disney movie, and this is definitely Wonderland. Michael could pass for the Queen of Hearts; he sure as hell stole Luke’s three years ago, and it feels like he’s trying to take the rest of Luke now. Luke wants to let him. But after a few minutes of sluggish kissing, it’s obvious that Michael is freaking out. Luke can feel it radiate off of the older boy; he’s scared, panicked, which means Luke is in control. He has to be, if this is going where he wants it.

So Luke pushes Michael down, back to the couch, and climbs over him, kissing him as deep as he can while sliding the older boy’s sweater up until it gets stuck under his armpits. Michael shivers noticeably, goosebumps prickling over his algid torso. 

“Cold again?” Luke wonders, smiling to comfort Michael; let him know that this is more than okay.

“Little bit.” Michael mumbles, watching Luke’s lips stretch into a wider smile.

Luke might know how to warm Michael up, or at least make him forget that he’s cold. He leans down, tickling his lips against Michael’s throat, feeling him shiver again but not from the temperature. He moves past the sweater in search of more skin, finding it near Michael’s ribs, sucking tiny kisses downward, knowing where he’s going, pretty sure Michael doesn’t mind. Luke can tell that Michael’s hard, and he’s eager to see it, wants to know, wants to feel. So he folds his fingers beneath the boxers and sweatpants, doesn’t ask before pulling them down because he doesn’t need to. The material pools on the floor, and Luke smirks from his position between Michael’s legs because he was right. Michael is hard. And it’s all because of him. It spurs Luke on, encourages him to push up, open his mouth, slide it over the head of Michael’s dick, swipe his tongue across the slit to taste the bitterness waiting there for him. 

A breathy, “Shit.” Sounds from above him, but Luke doesn’t look; he’s too focused.

Michael starts writhing as Luke sinks lower, gets his mouth as far down as he can without choking, sucks like he needs it more than Michael does. He’s greedy, the heavy weight on his tongue feels delicious, and it’s making Michael tense up with pleasure. Luke wants more, unbelievably, so he hollows his cheeks as much as he can and that draws Michael further into his mouth and Luke gags, just a little squeeze of his reflex that he can’t say he didn’t enjoy, and he pulls back halfway, using his right hand to jerk the rest of Michael off. Luke can feel that Michael’s close, can feel the twitch in his muscles, and he’s rather pleased with himself at having gotten him there so quickly. He wants so badly to make Michael come, to feel it in his mouth, if not other places. Luke’s trying hard too, indulging on Michael’s dick like he’s on death row and this is his last meal—served up hot on a silver platter. Suddenly Michael’s back bows upward and his hand is heavy on the back of Luke’s head, jamming it down until there’s nothing left to take, until Luke’s entire face is pressed against Michael’s pelvis and there’s come spurting down his throat even though there’s no room for it and he’s coughing and there’s saliva leaking from his mouth. 

“Fuck, oh my god.” Michael moans, and Luke keeps gagging, keeps not quite breathing.

It seems like Michael might be done, until he’s not and a surprise extra pulse drips into Luke’s mouth. When Michael finally lets Luke go, the younger boy pulls off so quickly his head spins. He’s sucking in huge gulps of air, face Australian-sun hot and eyes barely open. Luke looks at Michael and lays his head on Michael’s slightly sweaty hip, waiting for the older boy to relax except the movement strains Luke’s sore throat and it makes him cough, hard, causing his eyes to pinch shut in pain.

Without opening his eyes, he advises, “Maybe warn a guy next time you decide to suffocate him with your dick.” His voice grinds out, gravelly and it’d be evident to anyone with ears that he just properly sucked dick.

Michael strokes the damp hair on the side of Luke’s head says, “Sorry.” It makes Luke smile, even though when he swallows, it feels like he’s got a Michael sized lump stuck in his throat. Michael sounds incredibly nervous when he asks, “Do, uhm, do you need me to—“

“You don’t have to. S’okay.” Luke tells him, not wanting to make Michael do something he isn’t ready to or comfortable with. 

But, much to Luke’s surprise, Michael orders, “Up. I want to.”

Luke lets Michael shift him around to where he wants him, back leaning into the sofa arm, and the older boy’s boldness takes over as he shoves Luke’s pants and boxers down just enough to grab Luke’s dick and pull it into view, making the younger boy jump a little with a jolt of pleasure. Luke’s neck meets Michael’s mouth like an old friend while his dick does the same with Michael’s sliding fist. Soon enough, the older boy is down on his stomach between Luke’s legs, just looking at Luke’s dick like it’s a piece of priceless art in a museum.

“You’re staring again.” Luke mumbles, voice trembling with desperation.

Michael meets his eyes for a minute, seems to find what he was searching for, and then his hand wraps around the base of Luke’s dick and his mouth seals over the top. Luke is in heaven while Michael hollows his cheeks, sucks him down, makes Luke moan. He grabs the couch with tense fingers, legs practically vibrating around Michael’s shoulders. Luke does his best to keep still, to be an easy first shot for Michael, to let him decide how far to go...or where to go for that matter. He doesn’t want to force it, or hurt Michael, but it becomes exceedingly difficult when Michael’s devil mouth gains a new vigor, lowering his as far as he can, slurping away at Luke so well that the younger boy’s mouth loosens and his head rolls back and he’s whimpering like a dog in heat as Michael keeps going.

A minute more of this and Luke bursts, arching up and cursing lowly the whole way. He feels Michael pull up and the room is so quiet that he actually hears Michael swallow, which makes his stomach quiver with a sizzling desire to make him do it again. Not now, because they’re both breathing hard and Luke can’t contemplate what they just did, but it doesn’t stop him from smiling sweetly down at Michael and tucking his hair away from his face.

Michael smiles tiredly back and tells him, “Maybe I should marry you. You give pretty kick-ass blowjobs.”

“Blowjobs are the new proposal.” Luke chuckles.

“Get on both knees instead of one.” Michael adds, laughing along.

The laughter gets louder and Luke’s stomach hurts. “Could you imagine walking around and just like, dicks. Dicks everywhere.” 

Luke watches Michael get up, closes his eyes when Michael’s tongue slips through his waiting lips again. “I’ll put my dick everywhere.”

That sounds good to Luke. “Promise?”

“Yeah, if you want.” Michael allows, watching Luke with interest in his eyes.

“I do.” Luke admits without hesitation. “Have for a long time.”

It feels good to confess that, to watch Michael’s eyes light up with the promise of more and the guarantee of getting it; Luke thinks maybe this could work, that definitely this is good, that Michael looks slightly like he wants to hit something for missing out on Luke all these years—and Luke....well he can relate.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so it took me a whole to decide where I wanted to go with this series. I knew I wanted something from Luke's perspective and I finally decided to rewrite the Muke one in Luke's pov. I'm thinking I will probably do that for the Calum and Ashton ones too! Anyway, this was really fun to do and I hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think!  
> tumblr: senioritastyles.tumblr.com


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